


Icarus by Bastille

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: And Bastille was playing, Barricades, Bastille - Freeform, Canon Era, I Don't Even Know, It's late and I was sad, Just kinda happened, M/M, Sad, Songfic, icarus - Freeform, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:34:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1216201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I was listening to Icarus by Bastille and it reminded me of Grantaire and Enjolras so I kinda wrote a thing that kinda but deosn't really go with the song. Ey sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Icarus by Bastille

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so it's 3 am and unbeta'd so sorry about any mistakes and such. Sorry for the entire thing actually. It was late and I was sad and Bastille was playing so sorry! Please comment and such. Thanks! And sorry!

__Look who's digging their own grave  
That is what they all say  
You'll drink yourself to death  
  
Look who makes their own bed  
Lies right down within it  
And what will you have left?    

 

Grantaire lifted his bottle to his lips again, trying to cover up his scoff at Enjolras’ speeches about a “higher cause” with more wine. He had been listening to him go on and on about the people rising, revolutions and so on, but with each word his leader spewed, the more Grantaire drank.

After another one of Enjolras’ many rants about the “greater good,” Grantaire couldn’t cover his scoff of disbelief. Their leaders eyes turned towards Grantaire immediately, a scowl set firmly in place as per usual when he looked at Grantaire. “And what have you to say about the ordeal?” Enjolras asked, staring at Grantaire who sat at the edge of the barricade.

“Oh, you know me, great leader,” Grantaire bellowed, sarcastically across the room, “Always the nonbeliever.” Grantaire brought the bottle to his lips again, watching the way Enjolras’ eyes narrowed further. “Just forget I’m here and go back to your speech,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras walked over towards Grantaire and glared down at the cynic. “No,” he said, “Please, do speak your mind.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Grantaire looked up at Enjolras and sat up in his chair. “I just find it to be a waste of time,” Grantaire said, “The people will fail, we built the barricade, but when the fight comes, it won’t hold.” Enjolras continued to glare down at him, so he continued, “And if, by some miracle, the people do succeed and we win this fight, it will all be for naught. We shan’t make any difference.”

Enjolras crouched down to be at eye level with the drunk. “You’re wrong,” he said, “We will succeed, with no help from cynical, drunkards such as you,” he said with a sneer. “We will win this battle, and when we do, you will see how wrong you are,” he finished, standing up to walk back towards the other men.

“I hope you are right, Apollo,” Grantaire whispered under his breath, “For your sake.”

“What was that?” Enjolras asked turning back around to glare at Grantaire once again. It was definitely a look he was used to seeing from the man.

“Oh, nothing, Apollo,” he said, feigning innocence, “Just the ramblings of an idiot drunk.”

Enjolras scoffed at turned away from Grantaire, continuing on his way. “Just what we need,” he said when he reached the others, “Useless incites from an unbelieving, worthless drunkard.”

Grantaire faked a grin and raised his bottle towards Enjolras, before returning to his bottle. He finished another three before stumbling around in the darkness of the barricade and passing out by the wall.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~Flashback to before the Barricades~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

__Out on the front doorstep  
Drinking from a paper cup  
You won't remember this  
  
Living beyond your years  
Acting out all their fears  
You feel it in your chest  
  
Your hands protect the flames   
From the wild winds around you

  _  
_

 

Out on the front doorstep Drinking from a paper cup You won't remember this Living beyond your years Acting out all their fears You feel it in your chest Your hands protect the flames From the wild winds around you Grantaire leaned back on the steps of his small hovel, draining the last of his bottle, before pulling out another. He drank, watching the people pass by him on the streets. He watched as the small children played, running up and down the streets. Smiling, he took another drink from his bottle as he watched them play.

He was well into his second bottle when he heard a familiar scoff. He turned to see Enjolras glaring down at him in disdain. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?” Grantaire asked sarcastically from his place on the stairs.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and took a step forward. “I came to make sure you hadn’t drank yourself into an early grave,” he said.

Grantaire spread his arms out wide, “As you can see, dear leader, I haven’t had the luxury.” Enjolras continued to glare down at him. ”Well, since you traveled all the way out here, would you like to join me for a drink?” Grantaire asked, already knowing the answer.

Enjolras sat down beside Grantaire with a sigh. “I wish you wouldn’t drink so much,” he said, “It’s going to be the death of you.”

Grantaire laughed, leaning backwards on his elbows, “Unfortunately, I haven’t reached that point, yet.”

Enjolras recoiled from Grantaire as if he had been burned. “Why can’t you just believe in yourself instead of trying to drink yourself to death?” he said in exasperation. “You have so much potential! Why can’t you just see it?” Enjolras exclaimed. Grantaire just scoffed at his spiel and turned back to his drink. With another sigh, Enjolras rose from the step, stopping to look down at the cynic again. “Why can’t you just believe in _something_?” he said, before walking away.

Grantaire watched as Enjolras made his way down the street. “I believe in you,” Grantaire said after he had disappeared from view. Grantaire stood slowly and walked back inside to finish another two bottles before passing out, only to awake the next morning with no memory of the conversation.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~Back to the Barricades~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

__Standing on the cliff face  
Highest foe you'll ever grace  
It scares me half to death  
  
Look out to the future  
But it tells you nothing  
So take another breath  
  
Your hands protect the flames   
From the wild winds around you

  _  
_

Standing on the cliff face Highest foe you'll ever grace It scares me half to death Look out to the future But it tells you nothing So take another breath Your hands protect the flames From the wild winds around you Standing atop the barricades, Enjolras looked out at the troops that had gathered for the fight. This was what he had been waiting for. What they all had been waiting for. A chance to fight for what they believed in, to make a difference.

He knew that they probably wouldn’t survive the battle, but he was going to try. He looked around at his friends who all stared out at their foes with fierce determination. They all knew that that they would not all make it through the end of the battle, if any of them, but they were all there anyway, to try and make a difference. Or, if anything, just to be heard. Even Grantaire, the man who believed in nothing, was there, looking out at the troops with the others. Enjolras yelled to his friends, “Hold steady, men. Hold steady.”

Enjolras raised his gun, turning back towards the troops. One of them stepped forward and called out to the men, telling them of their impending failure. Enjolras stared back, holding his gun steady. “We must die, facing our foes,” he called back, “make them bleed while we can.”

“Make ‘em pay through the nose,” Combeferre called from where he was holding Courfeyrac, who was grieving the loss of Gavroche.

Courfeyrac yelled out, “Make ‘em pay for every man!”

Enjolras smiled at his friend’s words, “Let others rise to take our place until the earth is free!” “Canons!”

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~Later~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

__You put up your defenses when you leave  
You leave because you're certain  
Of who you want to be    

 

Grantaire bolted awake at the sound of gunshots. He looked around, seeing only some of his friends lying there dead. _No_ , he thought, _I can’t be too late, I can’t_. He stumbled his way up the stares and past more of his friend’s bodies.

He staggered into the room in time to see his Apollo standing in front of a window, starring down the troops that surrounded him. He made his way up to Enjolras and stood, looking up at him. “Do you permit it?’ he asked, almost begging.

 

__ Icarus is flying too close to the sun  
Icarus's life, it has only just begun  
This is how it feels to take a fall  
Icarus is flying towards an early grave 

Enjolras looked at Grantaire and smiled. He reached out and grabbed his hand, holding it up along with the red flag in his other, staring the other officers down.

“Fire!”


End file.
